I kid you not. Getting ready for yoga class, I noticed an unacceptable number of wrinkles in my stretchy workout pants. You didn't know that wrinkles were unacceptable in workout pants?
I stood there for a moment."Seriously, Carrie?" I asked myself. "Seriously? Ironing yoga pants. Don't you think that's a bit much?" And then I laughed because I felt something stir at my core. "Yup," I said to myself, "seriously." I am simply being me, despite the fun that others might poke at this little ritual (and by that, yes, I mean my husband). I'm just being me.
I had never consciously thought of it before, but as I stood at the ironing board, I realized that that I have an overwhelming desire to present myself as perfectly as I possibly can in all situations. Yes, even at the gym, in a yoga class. I blame (and love) my parents for instilling this neuroses trait in me.
Now, off to Downward Dog in my perfectly pressed pants. Namaste.
